


Familiar Dance

by Barbeauxbot



Series: Cover Your Eyes - Part 1 Ordered [3]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Other, warning for voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbeauxbot/pseuds/Barbeauxbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in Amaranthine, Laica works to draw Rendon's attention away from Nathaniel and Kahrin. But the more successful she is, the more painful memories are unsurfaced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Dance

Laica sat on the edge of the tub, staring at her reflection in the mirror-covered wall opposite the shower. _This is what you wanted_ , she reminded herself. _The more attention Rendon pays you, the less he can spare for Kahrin and Nate._

She fought back tears remembering the look on Kahrin's face last night when Sebastian waltzed into the dining room, glittering and confident, Laica hanging on his arm and simpering appropriately. Kahrin had been so lost, pale and wan. Defeated. Until her eyes lit up with joy, and disbelief. She never even hoped for a rescue.

Rendon Howe still didn't know what hit him. But soon enough he would hit back, and the longer it took him to devise a counteraction, the worse it would be. That Laica was sure of.

Laica reached shaky fingers to the belt on her robe. She had to bathe, sooner or later.

There was something too controlled about the older Howe. Too calculating. The brief flickers of his gaze on her legs and her lips so much worse than any blatant leering could ever be. It reminded her of somebody else. She picked up a brush and separated a lock of hair, gently pulling the brush through it, her eyes burning holes in the mirror.

Monsieur le Chef, as they called the commandant. He had called her "Jaune", and she never said anything to dissuade him. She didn't want to hear her name cross his lips, slide over her, become dirty. He had never actually _done_ anything. Just looked at her long enough that the rest of the peacekeepers left her alone. The other girls were jealous of her protective bubble, but Laica saw the lie. She wasn't protected from anything, he was planning something.

She escaped before Monsieur le Chef had a chance to put that plan into action. But the thought of his cold, lizard-like eyes grazing her skin, the way his hand tightened almost imperceptibly on his coffee cup when she passed too close, still left her cold.

She turned her face from the mirror. It was still there, of course. His eyes and ears were everywhere. Keep using this to your advantage, she scolded herself. Y _ou don't have to give him everything, just enough to keep him paying attention to you and not to them. Just for a little while longer._

Rising to her feet, she let her robe fall to the floor.


End file.
